


Fits of Insanity

by mandaree1



Category: Codename: Kids Next Door
Genre: Abby's infamous guilt complex, But the show's timeline is already wonky so no worries, Everybody but Abby is still in boot camp, Gen, Hoagie is allowed on missions and stuff since he builds pretty much everything, Honestly the timeline probably doesn't fit with the show itself, Nigel is Chad's protege or whatever so he gets special treatment, Pre-Series, These kids need some sleep, They're both already allowed to hang around Sector V, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7897999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandaree1/pseuds/mandaree1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Numbuh 5 finds her years of hard work to be useless in the face of failure. With Nigel Uno in the med unit and noticeably hairless, her confidence drained, and her will sapped, she steps down as leader. It still doesn't stop people from looking up to her, and certainly doesn't stop her wish for proper justice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fits of Insanity

The setting is less of a child's play-pretend barber shop and more of a dungeon. There's a tray of hair care tools left shiny and untouched on the counter. There's also a falsehood of grime to the brick walls, the concrete floor. Real but also fabricated; the Delightfuls love cleanliness almost as much as they love setting the mood.

The barber's chair is adult-sized, Abby notices numbly. Even when strapped in, Nigel could have moved around, frantically squirming and crying. The image makes her stomach turn.

Numbuh 5 falls to her knees, grabbing a handful to examine, as though, by doing so, she'll magically find a lie to it all and be able to sigh in relief, laughing it off as a bad prank. She doesn't find it. Her hand is shaking, making the clump flap and shuffle in her hands. She tries to tell herself it's brown sand, and can almost believe it, if not for the wailing sirens of the emergency med unit.

 _This is it. This is what you've done._ She forces herself to swallow. _You caused this_.

There's a hand on her arm. The brown sand falls to the concrete.

"Ma'am?" It's a medic; her eyes are too blurry to properly catch his Numbuh. "Ma'am, I know this is hard, but you're the only one here who knows his allergies. We need you to ride along."

_Ride along? Who even says he'll **want** to wake up after this?_

"Right. Allergies." She makes herself stand. Numbuh 5 prays she ain't shaking in the knees as hard as she is everywhere else. She doesn't want anyone else to see her fear, her shame. "Numbuh 5 feels a bit out of it, is all."

"Yes, ma'am. Don't you worry; we deal with cases like these more often than you expect. Although, to be honest, not usually to this extreme. Right this way, ma'am."

_It wouldn't be "this extreme" if you had gotten off your butt and helped. Some operative you turned out to be. Look at you. He's helping you on like a distraught mother after her son scrapes his knee._

She knows it isn't very brave, very leader-like, very helpful to the medics, but her voice blurts out the shaky words without her permission. "Can I hold his hand? He ain't never been in a med ward before. I want to be there if he wakes up."

"Stay clear of the skull, please."

"Right. Of course."

Numbuh 5 holds his hand and recites the answers to their questions by memory. Nigel doesn't wake up once during the trip, though he does whimper with pain.

 _Some leader you are,_ she thinks. _Never again_.

* * *

Abby quietly nurses thoughts of quitting the Kids Next Door altogether while nurses go in and out of the room. Hoagie is plastered to her side, just shakin'.

"H-He's gonna be alright, isn't he?" He asks. He's looking at her- not the doctors or the nurses or assistants. In his frazzled state of mind, her opinion somehow mattered more to him. Even after all that's just happened, kids are still looking up to her, and that's terrifying. "If there wasn't a chance, they would've come out by now, right?"

 _Don't look at me. This is all my fault._ She doesn't answer.

"Nigel will be alright, Hoagie." Rachel looks almost like an angel as she crouches down in front of their seats, putting her hands on his shoulders to grab and keep his attention. "He's the best of us, after all."

_Better than me, anyway._

"Numbuh 5 of Sector V?" It's that medic from earlier. He's seem to have shucked off his Numbuh in hopes of keeping it from getting dirty while on the clock. Abby knew it had to have been more than her watery vision. "The doctor has told me to inform you that Nigel Uno will recover quickly. Despite this, the damage was... extensive."

"It's not growing back, is it?"

"No, ma'am."

Numbuh 5 feels the blade in her stomach twist. _He loves his hair_.

"But he'll heal?" Rachel demands. She looks less like an angel now and more like a knight.

"Yes, ma'am. Live a long healthy life to boot." The boy gives her an apologetic look and the phone. "Normally it would be Numbuh 274 who calls the parents, but this case isn't _that_ extreme. Do you know Mr. Uno's phone number?"

"Yeah, I do."

"That's a relief. I'll ask someone to find you a more private place."

"How is that fair?" Rachel grabs the hand holding the phone. Abby hates her for it, hates her for breaking in like this like she doesn't deserve it and more. "Numbuh 5 wasn't on-scene for any of the actual attack!"

"She's head of her sector, ma'am." He answers. "It's her duty."

"It's okay." She hears herself say. "Mr. Uno knows me. He'll trust me."

"You sure you don't want me to do it? We've been buds a long time." Hoagie squeaks.

"Hoagie, you can't even say that without tearin' up. Lemme do this."

 _This is your fault._ Abby forces herself to keep her hold on the phone slack as she's escorted into a half-dark waiting room, not wanting to accidentally punch in a random call. _Nobody can deny that. They can try, but the way they looked at you- they know. They know_.

Numbuh 5 makes up her mind to, at the very least, surrender her place as leader as she dials in Mr. Uno's home phone. She's lost the right to call herself qualified.

_All those years of work, and you fell right on your face. Honestly, Cree would've done much better, and she's a traitor._

"Hello?" He sounds only mildly worried, Mr. Uno. Then again, Nigel's missed dinner before.

"Hey. S'Abby."

"Abby? Good to hear from you, my dear! How are you?"

Terrible. "Pretty decent. Listen. Is it okay if Nigel stays the night? My dad can supervise."

"Are you alright? Your voice sounds... off."

"Just the phone, sir. Makes your voice sound all wonky."

"Quite right! How do I sound to you?"

"Like a kindly old grandfather, sir. Suits you. Is it okay if he stays?"

"Of course he can! I know how your father enjoys going on and on about you to your friends." Like he wouldn't do the same, given half the chance.

"Anyway. I just called to... well, besides all that stuff, to tell you that Nigel had a go at cutting his hair."

"Did he, now?"

"Yup. Guess he got sick of waiting for you to make another appointment."

"Well, I'm all for children expressing themselves with their appearances. If he really wanted to give it a try, I'm all for it, as I just said. Er, how did it go?"

"Badly. He ended up just scrapping the idea and shaving himself bald."

There's a long silence on the other end of the line.

"Why, that doesn't sound like my boy at all. He _loves_ his hair. Very vain about it."

"He was frustrated, you know? Fit of insanity on his part. He's regretting it now, but who knows? Maybe he'll learn to like it."

"...Are you sure you're alright, Abby? Your voice is sounding _very_ distorted right now."

"Laughing, Mr. Uno. I'm laughing. I just thought I'd give you a heads up."

"Yes, well, thank you for that. I'll pick up some hair in a can from the store, although I doubt he'll use it. Very particular boy, he is. Goodbye."

"Bye."

Numbuh 5 is crying a little bit as the dial tone rings in her ears. She doesn't have the right to- _it's all your fault_ \- but she does anyway.

* * *

It's not like this is any harder for her than Cree was. Not in terms of reputation, anyway. Her sister had been a huge role model in her early career, and anybody who knew anything about fighting styles could summarize that a good portion of her defense and offense strategies had been lovingly handed down to her.

"She looked up to her." Some (the really stupid people) had said. "Maybe she's next."

Their tune is much different, this time. "She did her best, the poor thing. You can't win them all."

The difference is blood. Abby lives and breathes in close quarters with Cree on a daily basis. Nigel lives in a completely different house. To them, that makes it a different scenario.

She hates it. Cree was never her fault- Nigel _is_.

Hoagie's treehouse-building skills are unmatched, but that doesn't necessarily make the wood benches comfortable. Numbuh 5 sleeps next to the transmission receiver, waiting for the update that doesn't come.

The second day she sleeps on the couch, and on the third she finally retires to her room. She hasn't been home in days, although she's been giving Monty the play-by-play while she waits.

"He's embarrassed." She says day two.

"He's threatening to go live with circus people. I need time to talk him out of it." She says day three.

Day four he's awake and taking calls himself, or so she hears. Too emotionally exhausted to even contemplate going to see him without the threat of bawling, Abby tries to get up the gumption to turn in her Numbuh before someone can talk her out of it when Hoagie knocks on the door. She can smell chocolate.

"Is that candy?"

"Hot cocoa. I thought you could use it."

"Come in."

Abby's only in a night robe, but Hoagie has seen her torn to shreds in training simulations. A fluffy robe ain't nothing.

He skips into the room, tray in hand. He looks about as rested as she does. "What's up, boss?"

"Don't call me boss. You ain't even an official operative yet."

"Details, details." Hoagie passes her the mug. "It's just a matter of getting ready for the physical exam. Then I'll finally get my Numbuh."

 _You can have mine. Wait, no- it's probably bad luck._ "Take the exams seriously." She warns, taking a sip of the hot liquid. It soothes her nerves a bit. "I only barely managed to pass mine, and I've been training since I was small. It's killer if you ain't careful."

"I'm too valuable of an asset to waste. They won't let me go just for that."

"Don't kid yourself." Still, Abby is sure he'll make it in, one way or another. The Kids Next Door could use more engineers like Hoagie.

"How're you feeling?" He looks honestly concerned, and it takes all her self-control not to dunk her boiling hot chocolate onto his lap. She doesn't want pity- she wants to get her due. Her actions weren't seriously going to go undisciplined, were they?

All her life, Abby had been told to rely on the Kids Next Door to be fair and swift in its punishments. Yet here she was, untouched, and the Delightfuls hadn't been attacked, let alone gotten a talking to.

Perhaps that was it, then. What they were waiting for.

"Conflicted." She tells him. "How's Nigel?"

"Better. Kinda paranoid, though. Not that I blame him. I would be too."

"I know what you're gonna say, and I ain't doin' it." Numbuh 5 set the mug down with a thunk. "I can't see him just yet."

"He's been asking for you."

She's so surprised that she forgets to hold her tongue. "Why would he be asking to see _me_?"

"You're friends, and he wants to make sure you're not too worried about him. Duh."

"I'm fine."

"So you say."

"Boy, do you wanna never see my candy stash again? Otherwise, you'll shut up."

"I'm just sayin' that it's gotta be hard on you. Everybody's all shaken up, but you're leader; you can't be. You gotta keep on receiving calls from Mr. Uno, keep on juggling different missions off to the other sectors... I'm glad you're the one in charge, is all I'm saying."

_Never again._

"Well, somebody's got to do it. Once you and Nigel..." If he even wanted to, now. "Once you've graduated, anyway, I'm done. I hate it."

"Are you sure? You've put in a lot of work for this, especially after Cree."

 _If they have any sense, I won't even be an operative by tomorrow._ "I'm sure. I'm done."

Hoagie seems displeased, and maybe even a little scared, by her words, but nods his acceptance. "It's your choice, Abby. I just... I'm sorry this made you throw your chance away."

"It didn't." She assured him. "If anything, it's taught me that I'm not ready for it."

* * *

The plan is simple; revenge.

She'll sneak into the Delightful Children's mansion (not a spectacularly tough feat, but they do that on purpose; they love a good scuffle), shave them balder than the day they hatched from whatever sick science experiment they came out of, then immediately return to headquarters, S.H.A.V.E.R.A.M.A. in hand, with a confession, and the acceptance for the decommissioning she'll most likely be in for.

That last part gives her the willies. Too bad. She's not like Cree.

(When she was younger, that had been her mantra. "I'm not like Cree, wait and see!" sort of deal. Stupid, stupid, stupid.)

She remembered, perhaps for the last time, just how excited she'd been for the first successful escape she'd made from this place. Just your average rookie mission; get the leftover Halloween candy from the cupboards and get out. Don't feel bad, they stole it in the first place. They have a thing against cavities, and want us to suffer too.

Even now, everything looked the exact same as it did before. Same walkway. Same bay windows. Same row of purple flowers she once tore up. Different hole in the wall from where they airlifted Nigel.

Abby's skin prickled.

Numbuh 5 hadn't met the poor schmuck who'd gotten the mission to tail the Delightfuls without interfering with their evil plans for the better part of a year, but she _had_ read over their report and memorized the almost-always consistent schedule they'd written out. So she knew, with very little doubt, that they were currently sitting in front of the main fireplace, sipping tea like the deranged super villains they were. They also hadn't bothered to put up the new alarm, or so she found as she slipped into the stairwell.

Idiots, the lot of them.

There comes a time in every villain-hero neighborship, as there should be, when a spite-filled meet-and-greet takes place, so Numbuh 5 knew the names and ranks of every servant and guard in their home. In turn, they'd greeted and sneered at every single one of their hamsters. That didn't mean she remembered said names, or had spoken more than a few harsh words to them for buddying up with the enemy, but she did vaguely recognize the maid's pale face as she strolled by, sheets in arm.

As Abby wasn't one for chit-chat, she waited until the woman was out of sight to dart across the hall, easing open the door to the library.

It was a spacious room, much too elegant for her tastes. Bookshelves lined the walls so high a balcony had been built for better reaching capabilities. While one expected carpet or even wood, the floor was a startling granite, like the floors at the entrance of the high school. A fake fire blazed in the very center of the room, with a large plush sofa facing away from her. She could climb the pillars holding the structure up easier than the training ropes at the treehouse. She'd been up 'em enough times.

Honestly. Abby was one of the few operatives who still strove to get good grades, and enjoy the odd bit of old English- which meant there was a dear, even if slightly small, place in her heart for libraries- and even _she_ found this place to be too much. How kids could survive in a place as oppressively fake as this- even ones as twisted as the Delightful Children- was beyond comprehension.

The Delightfuls took a sip of their tea. Abby crept up behind them, using the balcony as her vantage point. She froze when they shifted, but- no. They're just checking their homework.

Sheesh. At least have the decency to do that on the bus.

All week, Numbuh 5 had forced herself not to think about what Nigel had been put through, but now, with the opportunity right in front of her, she found it impossible to clamp it down.

Lenny, with his helmet, had never shown any real love for his hair. Maybe it was he who took the first swipe. Ashley was nothing _but_ hair, so maybe she had gotten jealous, and so she and her sister had taken the reins while their brothers held him down, cackling. Neither David nor Bruce had struck her as the type, but looks were deceiving, so it was impossible to tell. Maybe they all got a good few locks in, or each held a razor, politely taking turns while her best friend screamed.

Enraged by the images her mind had presented to her, Abby aimed blindly and fired.

* * *

A fraction of a second too late, she realized the razor was heading for the back of Lenny's helmet.

WHACK!

The Delightfuls were up and blasting before she'd even had the chance to breathe, knocking her to the hard floor below. Numbuh 5 knows it's in bad practice, but she lets herself lay there a second, wallow in her own juices.

"Ah, if it isn't our friend, Abigail." They cooed. She stayed limp as they sauntered closer, hoping to catch them off guard. "You really should have called ahead. Father hates it when guests come by unannounced, _especially_ after dinner. On your feet, now. We know you're faking."

Numbuh 5 rolls, reaching wildly for the shooting end of the S.H.A.V.E.R.A.M.A. It's broken.

"That pitiful thing may have fallen to the pieces it- and any other anti-adult device- should rightfully be, but _this_ -" A buzzing sound cut through the air- "This works perfectly. Hands where we can see them."

Abby gets to her knees like they demand, arms in the air. "You dorks don't really think I care that much about my hair, do you? Enough to just surrender, I mean."

"Your friend Nigel did." They chirped. "What a lovely boy. It's such a _shame_ he'll never make for much of an operative, isn't it, now?"

Abby launches herself at them, grabbing the razor with a yell. It's five against one, and even with years of training, she can barely keep it away from her.

"You're going to regret this, you hear me?" She spits. "I'll make sure of it."

"We think otherwise." They assured her. "Look at you. The great Abigail, leader of Sector V, reduced to a screeching ball of confusion and anguish. Nothing you or any of your friends could ever do will top this moment. But, don't worry. You'll join him in the med ward soon enough."

With that, they knocked her onto the floor. Numbuh 5 landed on her rear and stiffened, waiting for her chance to flee. Her whole body ached.

"You're just not up the snuff, it seems. Pity." They clucked their tongues. "Look at you. You were _so_ brave, once. Now you're just a bad joke."

"I'm not laughing."

The Delightful Children grimly pointed the razor at her. "Neither are we."

Numbuh 5 ducked out of the way as the Delightfuls brought the razor down. She jumped to her feet and kicked the tool away, breaking it.

A fire began to blaze in their eyes. "You'll wish you hadn't done that."

Shouldering open the door, the girl held her hat to her head as she ran, refusing to let go of that last little piece of herself in a sea of anything but self-reflection. The Delightfuls strolled after her, voices echoing unpleasantly through the halls.

"What was your plan, Abigail? Shave us like we did your silly little friend? Ha! That wouldn't change a single thing! You'll still have failed. Our hair would grow back, but Nigel's _won't_. It doesn't matter what you do or what you say; you've still lost!"

Numbuh 5 stopped for a short breather. Escape plans raced through her mind, all too slapdash to be workable. "I keep tellin' you dorks," she called, panting, "if you're gonna go the creepily calling me by my name route, at least do it _right._ "

There's a brief pause. She doubts that they've stopped their casual pursuit, but merely looked at each other bemusedly.

"Abby is such a crass name." They replied. "Abigail is so much better."

"Yeah? That's 'cause you freaks don't have to write it on every test you take."

Pressing a hand to the glass, Abby considered her options. She could bust out the window and make a run for it, if she really wanted to; she knew how to tuck herself so she wouldn't get terribly hurt, and she had outsmarted plenty of alarms and guards in her time. But, if she _did_ break and flee, what would come out of her half-baked scheme? If she left like this, how could she even look him in the eye?

_This is your fault. Have the decency to admit that to yourself._

It's Abby's fault.

_Forget this. You can apologize by handing him your Numbuh and seeking out someone for decomissioning._

That was the problem, though. If she really thought he'd take it, she would've put it on the table the moment he woke up.

Her indecision became decision when a familiar male voice roared in the distance.

"Children! What _is_ that infernal racket?"

Nope. Numbuh 5 was willing to do a lot of things, but going toe-to-toe with Father when her beef was elsewhere is just stupid. She took a few steps back, got a running start, and fell into the garden under a shower of glass.

Her half-story fall coupled with this had thoroughly beaten up her body, so for once she didn't feel particularly antsy as she gimped past the servants and guards (mostly guards) and back over the fence.

Numbuh 5 fell to the dirt and pulled herself into a sitting position, leaning against the rough stone. She willed herself not to cry.

* * *

Abby doesn't know how long she sat there, but it's starting to get bright out when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

"Well, well. What have we here?"

She squeezes her eyes more tightly shut. "Go away, Cree."

"You look like you hit a bus."

"I said go away."

"No can do, sis. Dad's been worried sick. You really oughta call before you disappear for a few days."

"Why do you care?"

"'Cause _I_ have to listen to him. Get up. I'm taking you home."

Abby struggles to her feet, dizzy and tired. If it spites Cree, she's more than willing to crawl into her stupid car and bleed all over the seats.

"Nothing broken?"

"I'm standing, aren't I?"

"Testy. Not very fitting for the leader of the babies."

Numbuh 5 clenches her jaw around the words _I quit two days ago_. That's on a need-to-know basis, and Cree doesn't need to know. "Like you have room to talk."

"Hey, I'm free now. _You've_ got an example to set."

_I think I've already done that._

Abby refuses to be helped into yet another vehicle this week after what she's just tried to do, and jerks out of Cree's stiff grip to reluctantly pull herself into the passenger's seat. She's not up to buckling in, so she slumps and braces her shoes on the dashboard. Cree doesn't comment on it as she slips in and starts the car.

"Don't you still only have a permit?"

"Yup."

"Ain't it illegal to drive without a grownup, then?"

"Who's gonna stop me?"

Abby pulls the brow of her hat down and tries to take a nap. She finds it hard to relax.

"What were you even doing outside of the Delightfuls' mansion?" Abby asks.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Shut up."

"Don't make me pull over and beat you."

"Try it. State I'm in, you might even win."

Cree makes a quick stop at the pharmacy to grab some rubbing alcohol and bandages, then watches while Abby nurses the wounds. They start driving once again.

"What's this I hear about Nigel shaving his head?"

"Shut up." She repeats, because she's been over this too many times already.

"Hey, just trying to make some conversation. It's bad enough I have to cram you into my car- might as well get some entertainment out of it. He always looked strange with that hairstyle. Too floofy. Better off shaved, if you ask me."

"Where did you hear 'bout that?"

"Mr. Uno called. You're lucky I picked up the phone instead of dad."

"I woulda thought of somethin'."

"It wasn't Nigel's idea, was it?"

"Certainly wasn't mine."

"So that's why." Cree concludes. "Revenge."

"Fit of insanity. Won't happen again."

"I should hope not. That's my thing."

"Oh, whatever, Cree. I've had a bad week, that's all."

"And it's making you act like an idiot. Seriously, what happened to the girl who was _so_ determined to be a big tough operative?"

"She's right here."

"She's acting irrational. Get your mind back in the game or get out. It's bad enough enough listening to dad and mom go on and on when I know you're just on a mission. I don't even want to imagine how frantic they'd get if you made it into a hospital."

Much as she hates to admit it, Cree has a point. In her need to put things right, she had conveniently let the fact of her worried parents slip her mind. That didn't extinguish the urge to go back tonight with better aim and a better razor and perchance even a better head, but, rather, it gave her a sufficient harness with which to hold it back with.

"Yeah, I know." Abby says. "The same goes for you."

* * *

"Numbuh 5, ma'am." The doctor salutes her as he enters the waiting room. It's more cheeky then it is a sign of a respect. "Uno has been talking about you."

"I'm no ma'am, and you know it." She says, not unkindly. "I quit that jazz."

"Right. You can go in."

Abby pulls her hat off before entering, cradling it in her hands.

Nigel is sitting up in bed, gaze alert but ever-so-slightly cautious. His eyes light up when he spots her.

"Abby!" He cheers, gesturing for her to come closer. "Thank goodness. You have no idea how boring it is in here. Nothing to hold my attention with. Tell me a riddle, give me homework, _something_ to take the edge off."

She chuckles in spite of herself. "Don't got any of that with me, but I got this." She set the hat on his head with a confident air.

"Believe me, just having this conversation is plenty." Nigel gingery lifts it up, as it'd covered his eyes partially. "This is your favorite."

"Yeah. But I think you can find a better use for it, if you'd like."

"Perhaps, but I don't _want_ it." He handed it back to her with a frown, no-nonsense. Abby hopes that doesn't mean he resents her for it, but she also kinda does.

"Alright. Your loss." She set it back on her head, feeling relief blossom in her gut and sour with shame. "I'll bring you a newspaper, next time."

"Better yet, bring me a training manual. I can only imagine how much I've missed out on in boot camp."

"You still want to be an operative?"

"Of course! I gave my word that I would. I'm more excited for it than ever, really." He said, and there really was a certain form of passion in him that she hadn't seen before. "I want to make sure there's never another child who has to face what I've faced."

"I'm sorry."

"I was worried you'd say that." He sighed. "It's not your fault."

"I was worried you'd say _that_." She retorted.

"Abby, did you hold the razor and cream?"

"Oh, please. You know that kinda thinkin' never sat well with me."

"Fair enough. But I still don't blame you."

"You should."

"Maybe that's true, but you're my friend. That will never change. And I know you'd never intentionally send me in harm's way."

"I rode along with you."

"They told me. Thank you."

Abby took her hat off. She studied the worn inside, trying to remember a simpler time, when she was a rookie and her sister was the senior officer in charge of keeping the rookies in line. Before things got complicated. "You were my responsibility, and I failed. I stepped down right after I knew you were gonna be okay."

"Abby, no-"

"And I'm more than willing to retire early, if it makes things better." She replaced the hat and twiddled her thumbs. "I really wanted to, those first few days, but I've realized that was the coward's way. I wanted to just forget all my problems and run off without consequences. That ain't right. I gotta fix this, and the best way to do it is to keep on marching. Do my part and keeping lookin' you in the eye and _hope_ that'll eventually make up for it." She was breathing hard at this point. "I'm _sorry_ , Nigel."

"Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"You want to touch it? Hoagie got a kick out of how smooth it was."

Abby gently reached out to touch the pale skull. There wasn't even peach fuzz.

"Less hassle." She said, voice rough. "I oughta cut mine off sometime."

"Don't." Nigel grabbed her hand, squeezing warmly. "You love your hair."


End file.
